


Dim

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: None - Freeform, Really. - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-02
Updated: 2008-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “You know,” he says suddenly, after a long silence, “I think I’m afraid, too, sometimes.”
Relationships: Sirius Black/Ginny Weasley
Kudos: 1





	Dim

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written in about 7 months or so, so yes. The writing is a bit rusty, but we all have to start (or restart) somewhere. Sirius’ characterization is all over the place, but he’s rather pretty that way, so. Yeah. It's also unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine.

Response to Prompt #3, shadows, at [](https://siriusxginny.livejournal.com/profile)[**siriusxginny**](https://siriusxginny.livejournal.com/)

I kind of felt like writing, so I just took the prompt and ran with it.

**Title** : Dim  
**Author** : [](https://twinsofthesky.livejournal.com/profile)[**twinsofthesky**](https://twinsofthesky.livejournal.com/)  
**Pairing(s)** : Sirius/Ginny  
**Warnings** : None, really.  
**Rating** : PG  
**Summary** : “You know,” he says suddenly, after a long silence, “I think I’m afraid, too, sometimes.”  
**Spoilers** : None  
**Disclaimer** : This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Notes:** I haven’t written in about 7 months or so, so yes. The writing is a bit rusty, but we all have to start (or restart) somewhere. Sirius’ characterization is all over the place, but he’s rather pretty that way, so. Yeah. It's also unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine.

“I don’t believe you’ve ever been frightened of anything.”

She is aware of how his grey eyes are intently watching her face, and her cheeks burn. “I’m frightened of some things,” she half whispers. (She has no idea why she is saying such a thing—in the daytime she would toss her red hair over her shoulder, and laugh loudly when anybody challenges her courage. But now, when it is dark, and the candlelight spills eerily into the room, she cannot lie).  
  
A corner of his mouth twists up as he surveys her. “What are you afraid of?” he asks.

“Lots of things.” She shrugs impatiently. “Aren’t you?” As the words leave her mouth, she automatically feels stupid. “But of course not. You’ve seen and lived through everything. Twice. There’s no reason for you to be afraid of anything.”

He tilts his head. “Perhaps.”

She has no idea how fetching she looks, red hair tumbling down her shoulders, her hands twisting the folds of her nightdress nervously. When he doesn’t say anything else, she turns slightly. “I think I’m going to go back up to bed.”

“Should I check for monsters under your bed? Or is that something you’re not afraid of?” She whirls around to look at him blankly, and he has a mocking grin on his face.

She throws him a scornful look. “You don’t know anything, do you?” She turns away from him to go to her room, and he notices how light her steps are as she travels.

Normally, he thinks, that comment would have bothered him. From anyone else, he might have bristled and thrown a caustic remark or two, but from her…

He can already tell that she is going to be a regular beauty when she grows up. The thought amuses him slightly—little Ginny Weasley, off to conquer the world with her looks and charm, but there is no doubt in his mind that she would do whatever she wanted to, whenever she wanted it.

“Good morning, Sirius,” she says politely, before digging into her breakfast.

“’Morning.” He flips open the paper to the comics section, but keeps one eye focused on her.

She pours her tea with a steady hand, then she peers into his cup. Her eyes flicker up to his. “Do you want some more tea, Sirius?” she asks.

“Hm? Oh. Yes.”

There is no one else at the table—it is just them.

She chews thoughtfully, her eyes dreamy and vacant as she stares at a blank spot on the wall. A slight smile stirs on her lips.

“So, Ginny,” he says finally, breaking the silence. “Are you afraid of… mice? Snakes? Heights?”

Her eyes focus upon him, and he realizes with a start that it has been ages that someone could make his heart pump faster with a single look. “I’m sorry?” she asks.

“What you’re afraid of. Would you like to enlighten me?”

A smile stretches across her face, and he knows with a certainty that any boy on the receiving end of that smile would be a goner. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Not even an ex-convict?”

She shakes her head.

He leans back and frowns. “You seemed a little afraid of me, last night.”

“Oh. The dim lighting, I suppose. Everything looks a little frightening when there’s not enough light. Too many shadows lurking about.” Her tone is almost flippant, and he wonders whether she is hiding something.

“You need light to create shadows.”

She fixes her brown eyes on him. “I know.”

“For someone who’s afraid of shadows, you’re down here a lot in the dark,” he says.

“Hullo, Sirius,” she says dryly.

She looks like a ghost or an angel in her pale nightgown.

“You’re down here all the time,” she points out. “You don’t ever seem to leave.”

“I do, occasionally, to go to the bathroom.”

He notices that she wrinkles her nose as she laughs. He wonders briefly if he should be noticing so much about her.

“I felt like I wanted to come down here and spend some time with you.” He can see the pink splotching her cheeks even as she tries to be nonchalant about it.

“Do you usually get these urges often? Are you sure it’s not hunger or something?”  
  
She fixes him a mock glare, and then they both laugh.

She takes a seat next to him and doesn’t do much of anything. Her fingers rest upon the table and he stares at how her hand contrasts so much with the table.

“You know,” he says suddenly, after a long silence, “I think I’m afraid, too, sometimes.”

She just looks at him with her large brown eyes, wordlessly urging him to go on.

“But I don’t even know what I’m afraid of. I can’t put my finger upon it. I just wake up sometimes and my head pounds and I’m sweating and I’m not getting enough air.”

“Do you dream?”

“Yes,” he says, lowly. “I do dream.”

She slips her small hand into his and she gives it a comforting squeeze.

He expects her to ask him what he dreams, but she doesn’t. Somehow, it encourages him. “I dream of losing. Losing everybody I hold dear. It drives me _crazy_ , knowing that I can’t do a thing to stop it. I’d rather be scared of something physical. Then I could just look at it and know how to stop it. And if there isn’t a way to stop it, I would find one. I could discover a way.”

He’s been drinking, she knows. He always does. She wonders whether he’ll hate her tomorrow for telling her this.

She opens her mouth and she realizes that her throat is dry. “You’ve already lost a lot.”

His grey eyes are haunted, his face hollow. “I can’t lose anymore.”

“Then stand guard over them.”

“I can hardly force them to stay here,” he says with a bitter laugh. “But I’m confined to this place. I can’t guard or protect anybody, not even if I wanted to.”

Her hand is still in his. “I’m afraid of losing, too,” she says quietly, after a moment. “And I can’t do anything about it. Nobody can, it seems.”

“Promise me something, then,” he says. “Promise me that no matter what, you won’t do anything rash. Keep yourself safe. You can’t come to harm. You have no idea how much it would kill—”

“Alright,” she promises hastily, looking a bit fearful at what else he would say. “I promise.”

“Goddammit, I’m serious,” he says, his grey eyes angry. “I’m serious. You can’t just run around and think it great fun to have adventures when you could get killed. It’s not a game.”

“I never said it was,” she says hotly. “I never said it was a game. Don’t you think I know that all my family’s in danger?” Her ire makes her eyes sparkle and her cheeks flush.

Before he knows what he is doing, he has stood up and yanked her to him, wrapping his arms around her, resting his chin against her temple. “You can’t die,” he whispers to her fiercely. “You, nor anyone else. You can’t die.”

“Sirius, you’re being unreasonable,” she protests, her face flaming red now. “I won’t die. I really won’t.” He doesn’t loosen his hold on her, so she tries again. “Sirius. You’re drunk. You can’t—”

He suddenly lets go of her and turns away, shielding his eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Ginny. I’m very sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

She doesn’t know why he’s acting like this, and it frightens her a little. She touches his elbow. “Sirius?”

“You should go to bed,” he says. “I’ll make sure nothing dark or scary will come and attack you in your sleep.” His voice is grim, and he still will not look at her.

She stands there for a minute, but when he makes no move to come near her or even look at her again, she sighs. She walks up to him and angles her head so she can see him. His face is shuttered and tense. “Good night,” she says softly and kisses his cheek.

He swallows. “Good night, Ginny.”

“And you won’t lose me,” she says. “You won’t. I promise.”

She turns away to go, but he pulls her to him again and holds her close, kissing her temple.

“You need some sleep,” she whispers. “I think you’re about to become undone.”

He chuckles. “If you say so.”

When she heads back to her room, she turns around once and sees him, sitting and staring at the table.


End file.
